Prose Header


The Cost of a Carnation

by Danielle R. Morrison

Part 1 appears in this issue.

conclusion


Quinn sat on the top of the clock as the girl made her way down the path. As soon as the girl came across the faery ring, she looked up from her phone and smiled. Her gaze scanned the entirety of Oliver’s artistic masterpiece, seemingly admiring the gardener’s hard work. She plucked a large carnation off of the clock and laid in the center of the faery ring, her dark brown hair sprawling in the grass to the mushrooms. She took the flower and wrapped its stem around her ear. Quinn watched in horror as the girl extended her arm out with her phone in hand and snapped a picture of herself ruining Oliver’s work of art.

With a clap of her hands, Quinn transported the girl out of the human world and into the world of the fae.

The journey happened in less than a blink of their eyes. Slowly lowering her phone, the girl pushed herself up and snapped her head around back and forth. Quinn watched the girl’s breathing quicken as she became increasingly terrified about what had become of the beautiful garden she was just in moments before.

Inside the circle of mushrooms, Quinn snapped a bonfire to ignite next to the girl to give some light to the darkness of the ring. The girl screamed. Even though she was now the same height as Quinn, the sound was just as deafening as if she were still human-sized.

After the ringing in her ears had ceased, Quinn stepped out from behind the largest mushroom to reveal herself to the girl. She held back a chuckle as the girl’s face contorted at the sight of her. The girl backpedaled through the moist soil until her back was pressed against a mushroom. It bent slightly at her weight.

“Wh-what are y-you?” the girl said. Her pink fingernails dug deep into the earth.

“A keeper of the garden.” Quinn slowly strolled to the girl and extended her hand. On her last step, she knelt to be at her eye-level. “And who might you be?”

The girl buried her hands deeper. “Maia.”

At the sound of her name, Quinn smiled. Every thin, pointed tooth glowed under the light of the fire reflecting in her wings. It was always unwise to give a name to a faery. Names hold too much power to have over another.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Maia.” Quinn stood, allowing herself to look tall over the cowering human. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”

Maia shook her head. She pushed herself from the ground and tried to run. Before she could step outside the ring, Quinn grabbed her wrist.

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you.” She pulled the girl closer so she was only a few inches away from her face. “You don’t know what’s out there. You’ll be safer here with me.”

At this, tears began to well in Maia’s eyes. Quinn could tell she was trying to blink them away, but the fire made her eyes look like they were as glittery as the bead in Maia’s pocket.

“Dance with me around the fire!” she said. “Let me show you the beauty of my world.”

Without waiting for a response, Quinn grabbed Maia’s other wrist and pulled her back into the center of the ring. She spun Maia in circles around the fire, spinning faster and faster as Maia squeezed her eyes shut. Finally, she let go and let Maia stumble and fall into the dirt with a loud thud.

Deviously, Quinn snapped her fingers while Maia got her bearings to procure a gold goblet filled with mead. “Thirsty?” Maia took the cup from her hands. “I made it myself.”

Quinn watched with delight as Maia drank the sweet liquid. She must have not been aware that eating or drinking food from the world of the fae was dangerous.

Her voice became soft and sweet. “This is delicious. Thank you.”

By taking that sip, she was accepting her new home in the world of the fae. “You’re quite welcome, my friend. Honeysuckles and elderflower are what make it the best mead you’ll ever taste.”

With a loud gulp, the girl finished.

“I’m so happy you visited my gardens today,” Quinn said, taking the cup back. “Didn’t you think they were just beautiful?”

For the first time since she came to the fae world, she smiled back at Quinn. “They really are. I love flowers so much.”

“Do you?” Quinn said. The cup dissipated away with a snap. In its place, the pink craft bead materialized out of Maia’s pocket and into Quinn’s palm. Maia didn’t seem to notice.

“I do. You do a good job taking care of them all.”

The anger that was stored in her core rose to her eyes as they became entirely black, and her green cheeks glowed redder than raspberries. Quinn squeezed the bead in hand, causing it to crush into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“Then how dare you!” She opened her hand to let the dust of the bead to sprinkle into the air. “How dare you destroy the very earth that gives you life!”

Maia slowly retreated away from Quinn, hands in front as if ready to block a punch. “I-I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing.” She stormed towards Maia, her fists balled tightly at her sides. “Now you know to never cross a faery.”

Before Maia could step outside the ring, Quinn clapped her hands. In the same speed as she took Maia to the world of the fae, she brought her back into the human world.

* * *

The midday sun was blinding. Quickly blinking, Maia tried to adjust her eyes to the light. Black spots filled her vision for a moment.

She turned her head up towards the topiary of the clock. The green vines that spiraled towards the top looked brighter than she remembered. Cautiously looking around, she gently touched the petals of the pink and purple bougainvillea. I thought these were carnations, she thought.

Maia took a small step outside the faery ring, careful not to crush a mushroom. She moved out of the grass and onto the paved walkway towards the exit to the gardens.

She pulled open the double glass doors and stepped inside the lobby, a blast of cold air hitting her face and sending chills down her back. Suddenly, a wave of vertigo hit. She sat on a wooden bench and let her forehead rest in her hands.

“You alright?” a man asked.

She lifted her head to find the man standing a few feet away from her, extending a bottle of water towards her. He was dressed in jeans and a yellowed tank, his face and arms covered in dirt.

“Thank you.” She twisted off the cap and took small sips. Her throat felt like it was closing.

“You gotta be careful out there. Summer’s been bad this year. Only gettin’ worse.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a towel. As the towel left his pocket and reached his forehead, a garden brochure tumbled out and onto the tile: Bach Garden’s Summer 2122 Events Schedule.

As she read the title, Maia’s heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. The sound of birds outside and the humming of the air conditioner muffled. The acid in her stomach churned.

“21 22,” she said quietly to herself. She looked up towards the man. “Is that... is that the number of events happening this year?”

He picked up the paper and handed it to her. “Hell no!” He put the towel back in his back pocket. “Just the year. Could you imagine if we tried to do that much stuff at once? We’d be dead by the end of it.”

Maia’s hands trembled as she took the brochure. “It’s not 2022?” Her voice cracked as she let the paper slip through her tense fingers.

The man looked at her in horror. “You want me to call a doctor or somethin’? You hit your head?”

With the smallest of movements, she shook her head. She placed both hands on the bench and pushed herself up to stand. Slowly, she walked towards the door that led to the parking lot. Within an instant, her head began to feel as if was splitting in half. Her limbs felt heavy as if they couldn’t hold her weight any longer. As she put her hand on the doorknob, her lungs felt as if they collapsed. She gasped for air.

The man watched as she backed away from the door. She dragged her feet to the other set of doors that led back into the garden. As she moved back down the path and into the garden, her body began to feel normal again.

Unable to control her tears any longer, she wept as walked back to the clock topiary. Inside the ring of mushrooms, Quinn was waiting out in the open for her to return.


Copyright © 2022 by Danielle R. Morrison

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